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Saturday, September 19, 2015

John Keats at 24

Today, as Writer's Almanac has informed me, is the day John Keats wrote the ode to autumn.  He was 24 years old when he whipped this poem off.

I aspire to this beauty
I do love apples.

It was lovely then, and it is lovely now, so for your reading pleasure:

To Autumn
(a very young)
 John Keats

Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness,
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run;
To bend with apples the moss'd cottage-trees,
And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core"

Friday, September 11, 2015

Morning Message

The very tea bag message thing (what is that called?)
Found this morning:

hard words hanging over,
worse then if
I had been drinking,
from night before.

Found this morning:

a message on teabag,
I eagerly read,
looking for wisdom

Found this morning:

a stone softening,
leaking the
milk of human kindness.

Wednesday, September 9, 2015

Tangled Love

Sweet Peas in my garden. 

No love is a straight shot. It is circuitous, at best. It is tiny strands of thoughts, feelings, and efforts.

All of which often, read almost always, misfire, misdirect, miscommunicate, the giver's intention.

Love for; family members, friends, spouses, children, strangers, potential mates, or next door neighbors, even if you lived there for years and years, can go only as far as the receiver will accept or as well as the giver can communicate.

As a result, or at least in my case, it is missed, misunderstood, or unrequited, and in the worse case scenarios, despised. Which makes the threads, even more tangled then the thousands of fine threads in a wastrel sewing basket, which I of course, have encountered, frequently.

Then there are the moments, the tiny little moments, where the tight knots, loosen, and threads that were not salvageable, slide into alignment. Making possibilities.

It is the possibilities that I look for, nay seek. Seek with  certain curiosity, wondering how the story will turn out. It is with patience  I watch, delightfully caught off guard, and experience with tentative disbelief, while hopefully, accepting the gift given.

Thursday, September 3, 2015

From Whence

From whence one sees
Thought provoking cup of tea. 

Varies with
each moment we are 

Born newly, 
not only once 
in this  life.

Life changing
lead to movement

though really,
could be 

Seconds splaying
insights of perspective.

Perspective gives way,
the variable, 
which allows for
understanding others.